No One
by Angeliz
Summary: The death of Bakura elicits varied responses from Yugi, Yami, and the rest of the gang. However, nobody is truly sure of how Ryou feels. Is this for the better or the worse? Oneshot.


"Man, why did we come to dis stupid funeral? What's dis guy ever done for us besides tryin' to murder us every time we saw him?" Joey crossed his arms in anger, scowling openly at the newly dug grave before him. The scattering mourners glanced at him with startled expressions, one pair of eyes in particular holding a blaze of anger at his words. The blonde didn't notice, swept up in his shallow wave of indignation.

"For once, the mutt has a valid point. Why are we here, Yugi?" Kaiba's arrogant voice followed Joey's echoing yell, rising in a mist above the frost-covered graveyard. The boy in question raised his large lavender eyes to meet the icy gaze being directed at him. "I just thought we should be here for our friend. It has to be hard on him, after all…I mean, he did lose someone very close to him."

"Close enough to make several attempts on his life…not to mention ours," Tristan pointed out, crossing his own arms in an unintentional imitation of Joey's stance. Anzu nodded in agreement, pulling her coat more tightly over her shoulders. Yugi looked up at the faces of his friends, and then turned his gaze to the frozen grass beneath his shoes. "Well, despite that, you guys…I don't know, I guess I just know how I would feel if Yami died, and I would want my friends to be around."

A deep, calm voice joined the conversation as its owner nodded at his look-alike. "I understand how you feel, partner, but is it really so accurate to compare their lives to ours? Certainly there was some connection, but the past has not shown much affection between the two." The pharaoh's intense eyes flickered toward the tombstone, a thoughtful look playing within their depths. "Although I am sure it's somewhat painful for him, it is also in his best interest, most likely in the best interest of all mankind." Unnoticed by the group of friends, another pair of eyes, these filled with sorrow and fury, glared in their direction; their narrowed sharpness seemed inappropriate, yet oddly familiar on the face that they adorned. _They don't understand anything…_

"I'll say. Dat fiend has been nothin' but trouble since we met him. I shoulda taken him out myself da moment he first showed his ugly mug!"

"Joey, please! We're in a cemetery, control yourself!" Yugi tugged at Joey's raised fist, shooting a look toward the figure that stood staring down at the grave a few feet away. He didn't appear to have heard them, deep in thought. The miniscule teen turned back to his friends with a pleading voice. "Try to think about how he must be feeling right now. Put yourself in his shoes."

"If I were in his shoes, to be honest, I would be a little more cheerful," Anzu spoke up with a glance at the taller of the two spiky-haired boys, "Like Yugi said, it's all for the best, when you think about it."

Joey, almost instantly forgetting Yugi's request that he control himself, snorted in contempt. "Who needs ta think about it? It's so obvious it might as well be hittin' us all in da face!"

Seto rolled his wintry eyes, smirking. "Though I would have phrased it a little more eloquently, I concur with this idiot's assessment. From what I've seen of the man's life, he's better off dead."

Yugi dared another glance toward the boy who stood outlined against the gray December sky. He couldn't be certain, but he was almost sure he had caught sight of a sudden movement following Kaiba's statement. "You guys…" he started quietly, but his voice didn't carry enough to overshadow Tristan's words.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't believe that story about how he died for a minute. Saving Ryou from a burning building? Please. He more likely started the fire himself and got caught up in it by accident! Come on, think about it, you know it's probably the truth." Murmurs of agreement filtered through the circle of friends as they huddled near each other, united against both the chill of the wind and the idea of such a villain caring for another person. Only little Yugi remained silent, violet eyes glancing more and more frequently toward the solitary figure near the grave. A snowflake fluttered lazily from the heavens as he watched, lighting upon the puzzle suspended from his neck.

"I don't believe that, Tristan. I know what I saw."

The pharaoh offered his light a quizzical look, his voice holding the tone one might use to humor a young child. "Yugi, it was very dark out that night…"

"That only made the flames and everyone near them stand out more."

"You probably inhaled some smoke, as well, Yugi," Anzu voiced, "And you were all the way across the street."

"Streets aren't that wide, and the little smoke I did inhale did not cause me any damage."

"Yugi, be reasonable," Kaiba admonished him, "You can't say for sure what you saw that night. For all you know, Ryou crawled out of that fire himself and _then_ passed out."

Yami nodded at his rival's words, placing a hand on Yugi's shoulder with a condescending smile. "I don't doubt your truthfulness, partner, but nobody could be absolutely certain of what they witnessed in the chaos of such a night."

Yugi shook his head, eyes glazed over in memory. The night had been no darker than any other night, but seemed so in comparison with the blazing apartment building. Having stumbled from the building ahead of his friend, a firefighter had half-carried, half-dragged him across the street and away from the inferno. Yugi's eyes remained focused on Ryou's building, searching the flames for his friend. As he watched, a figure emerged from the darkness and raced into the fire, slipping past the authorities with a practiced skill. After what seemed like hours, he had emerged once more, an unconscious form lying unmoving in his arms. The glow of the flames had highlighted the two, casting an orange tint on their matching white hair and pale skin, reflection dancing in chocolate eyes for only a moment before they flickered shut.

Bakura had fallen then, careful even in his final moments to act as a barrier between his light and the cement beneath them. By the time Ryou woke in the hospital hours later, his yami was already dead. Yugi was the one who had told him, had witnessed the anguish etching itself into his features as the news washed over him.

Yugi shivered, blinking as he snapped out of his thoughts. The snow was falling steadily now, nestled into his hair like tiny crystalline eggs in a nest. Yami held the boy close to his body, trying to warm him. "We should leave. You're freezing."

"He's not the only one," Anzu complained, hopping from foot to foot. Kaiba had already stalked off, muttering about an important meeting in his quietly egotistical voice. Joey and Tristan, having become bored with conversation, were chasing each other among the tombstones.

Yugi sighed in a frosty cloud. "You all go ahead. I just want to check on Ryou before we go. I'll catch up, I promise." He waved them on, moving toward the boy with downcast eyes.

"I'm sorry about…about what they said…if there's anything I can—"

"There's nothing. I don't mind them, don't worry." The words were emotionless, directed at the frozen ground rather than the boy next to him. "You should go. They're already worrying about you. Think that the fire screwed with your mind or something."

"Ryou…"

He ran a hand through his snowy hair, closing his eyes tightly against the world. "Just go, Yugi. I thank you for what you're trying to do, but…just go…" With an understanding nod, Yugi turned and walked toward the gates of the graveyard.

As he joined his friends, Anzu greeted him with a raised voice and her version of reassurance. "Don't worry about him. He might be a little messed up right now, but he's not really too sad, I bet. After all, like they say in the song: no one mourns the wicked…"

Ryou's gaze followed his so-called friends until they disappeared from sight, a gaze filled with torment and resentment. He scoffed, eyes hardening into an expression of hate as a sinister smirk played on his lips. "Is that so?" he whispered into the wind, mock amusement dripping from the words, "Well…you know what that means, Bakura?" The teen's head turned toward the newly disturbed soil, his features more similar to those of the deceased than his own. With a cynical grin, Ryou pushed his hands deep into his pockets and stared into the gray that was the eternal sky.

"I guess that makes me no one."


End file.
